The Girl on Fire.
That's what she's been called. An icon. A symbol. Representing hope, change. All the things that should've come true, but never would. Futile dreams whose only legacy is more death and suffering for all.
She had thought she could make a difference. That her fighting spirit, her determination, her strength could help in some way. But they hadn't.
And now she sat alone in a damp cell in a prison full of other "criminals." She knew only a few of the other prisoners. One man had been the leader of the District 4 rebellion. Another had fed Capital secrets to the rebels. And somewhere in the maze of prison cells, was Gale. She had seen him once, when he had passed her cells. She had been staring out of the bars, hoping to see someone well, anyone. Her cell was isolated, and it was sometimes days in between sightings of another human being. The clinking of shackles had alerted her to his presence long before she saw him shuffling down the hallway.
His grey eyes, once so full of passion and light, were now dulled. His cheekbones, always so sharp, now stuck out grotesquely from a gaunt and sunken face made pale by malnutrition. But still he was beautiful. Oh, how he was beautiful.
When he had caught sight of her peering through the bars, his instead demeanor had changed. He straightened up.
"Gale?"
"Catnip?"
Their words, full of surprise and wonder were all they shared. Gale moved to get closer to her, and was immediately grabbed by four guards.
"Gale!" she screamed, as he was pulled away from her.
Now she waited. She knew that her life would soon be over. The Capital had let her sit in the dank cell for long enough. What she hadn't known then was that they had one final punishment for her.
She had been sleeping, or the closest thing to it when they had come to get her. Her first thought had been that the time was finally here. She was about to die. She had kept any emotion from her face as they had led her up flights of stairs and outside. She had only a moment to enjoy the rays of sun, the first she had seen in months. And then she had seen why she was outside.
Gale. He was standing near a wall, only loosely surrounded by guards. Despite the guards surrounding her, she ran to him. And she was almost there, almost able to touch him, when she heard it.
The shot.
And he fell.
Gale lay bleeding on the ground, as the man standing behind him put away the gun.
And then she had started screaming.
She didn't stop when they grabbed her.
She didn't stop when they tied her to a post protruding out of a pile of wood.
She did stop when she saw the fire begin to flicker under her. And she knew.
She looked up and saw President Snow. He was watching her, as the flames began to climb higher and higher, almost reaching her feet.
Katniss did not weep. She did not pray. No, this was not her, the stoic hunter who had loved and lived through hardship after hardship.
Instead she smiled.
She smiled as she became the Girl on Fire one last time.